


Married

by camichats



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fake Marriage, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Sexual Content, minor Arya Stark/Ygritte
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:33:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21749830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camichats/pseuds/camichats
Summary: Jon had agreed to come to this wedding with Tormund pretending to be his husband. After he sees Arya there though, the situation gets a little complicated.
Relationships: Tormund Giantsbane/Jon Snow
Comments: 8
Kudos: 128





	Married

Jon was seventy nine percent certain that Arya was going to kill him. 

"You're married?!" 

"Well, I mean-" no, he wasn't, he was doing Tormund a favor so he could save face in front of his ex who was now happily married and the only reason Jon had agreed was because no one there was going to recognise him until now "-you didn't tell me you like women," he blurted to try and take some of the heat off him. Then he wanted to face palm because that was one of four things he could've said to make this worse. 

"I know that coming out doesn't mean shit to you since you got caught having sex with Robb in front of our parents, but not all of us are like that." 

Tormund, momentarily forgotten by Jon in his panic of Arya being here, laughed. Because he was a fucking _arse_. "You got caught with your trousers down. Aw," he cooed obnoxiously, ruffling a hand through Jon's hair and making it a mess, "I'm so proud of you." 

Jon shoved at his arm in annoyance. "I just mean that you keep secrets too." 

"Secrets about who I'm fucking, not who I bloody _married_. What in seven hells, Jon? When did this even happen? It's not like you vanished for a year and then showed up with him." 

"No, Arya, it's- okay listen-" 

"Can I talk to you for a second?" Tormund interrupted, dragging Jon away without having to try very hard at all. 

" _What_?" Jon snapped, annoyed that his struggling had been ignored like it wasn't happening. 

"You can't tell her." 

"It's just Arya. She's not going to tell Brienne, she probably doesn't even know her that well and only came because Ygritte brought her." And wasn't that a fucking shock, to learn that Ygritte was dating _Arya_. He could see how they'd get along, but still. 

"Yeah, Ygritte brought her, and Ygritte's never been able to keep her mouth shut. Just tell her you'll explain later, and you can tell her the truth tomorrow." 

"By tomorrow she'll have told her entire family." 

"Please just-" Tormund stopped short. His eyes darted to the side, and then he was leaning in, kissing Jon almost as if he'd been wishing he could for years. 

Jon kissed back, at first automatically-- because that was what you did when someone kissed you, you kissed them back-- and then because it felt so fucking god. Is this why Tormund had been so insistent that Jon agree to his original plan? That seemed like a weirdly extravagant plan to ask Jon to date him, but Tormund had done worse in the past. 

Tormund eased away and instead of saying something romantic or stupid-- or stupidly romantic like he often did-- he whispered, "Sorry, Brienne's bloke was looking over." 

It felt like a bucket of water and been dumped over his head. "You're an arse," he muttered, "you know that?" 

Tormund frowned at his tone. 

Jon didn't really care. His stomach was sinking like a stone in water, and he felt so unbelievably stupid for thinking that this had been anything other than what it was at face value: a favour for a friend. "Whatever," he said, trying to walk away. 

Tormund didn't let him, keeping a firm hand on his arm so he couldn't escape. "I know I should've asked first, but I didn't think you'd care. We're pretending to be fucking married, of course we'll kiss sometimes." 

Jon just looked at him, his eyes hard. He really was the dumbest bastard he knew, and he couldn't even get made at Tormund for it. "Yeah," he said, voice gruff, "you're right. Sorry." 

"You okay?" 

"I'm fine." 

"Are you sure?" Cause you've got a moping face on." 

"I do not." 

"Mmhmm." 

"The fuck would I be moping about?" Jon asked, beyond aggravated at just about everything. 

"I don't know, that's why this is weird." 

Jon rolled his eyes. "You're an idiot." 

"Yeah but usually you're not so mean about it." 

Jon just walked away. He wasn't really surprised when Tormund followed him instead of letting him storm off, but it did serve to annoy him even more. Tormund did all these things, said all sorts of things to Jon that always got his hopes up only for it to come crashing down later. 

"Are you ever going to explain what you're in a strop about or do I have to start guessing?" 

"Let it go." 

"How about no, and you just tell me what's wrong." 

"Nothing's wrong.” 

"You're a pain in the arse, you know that?" 

"Then stop dragging me into your bullshit and I'll be a pain in somebody else's arse." 

"That wasn't the point," Tormund said. This was the problem with him and Jon: he knew how to keep him happy, but the instant he got upset, Tormund had no idea what to do. 

"Then what was the point?" 

"Tell me what's wrong!" He'd thought it was pretty damn obvious that _that_ was the point. 

It would be too childish to say no and stomp away, but he was tempted. Gods, was he tempted-- and the only reason he didn’t was because Tormund had proved that he wasn’t going to let Jon storm off. He also refused to blurt out his feelings like they were trash. "Why do you care? Let me be pissed off, it's no skin off your back." 

"Why the fuck would I let you be pissed off? If it's reasonable fine, but this probably isn't something you need to get angry about so just tell me what it is." 

"You're an arse," Jon said. 

"Yeah, but-" 

"You're also," he gritted out, unable to help himself, "bloody perfect." Which just made it worse. 

Tormund blinked, completely thrown by the direction that had gone. "Er, I mean, thanks, that's kinda why I asked you to come with me. Look, if you're that upset about it, you can tell your sister." 

"I thought you were afraid of Brienne finding out?" 

"If your family thinking we're married has gotten you this worked up, then it doesn't matter." 

"They're not my-" Jon started to correct. 

"Your family," Tormund finished, waving him off. "They're basically your in laws without the marriage, but whatever. I thought this was gonna be something fun for us, go to a wedding and drink free booze instead of sitting by ourselves being bored. Me at this stupid wedding, and you at home. If I'd known it was going to fuck you up this bad, I wouldn't have asked." 

"Right, you could've asked Edd instead." 

"Fuck Edd, I wanted to come with _you_. You know what, fuck it, let's go to mine and watch shit telly for the rest of the night, it's not worth this." 

"What- but I- we don't-" Jon stuttered. 

"You look like you'd rather die than spend another minute here, so let's go." 

"But Arya," Jon said weakly. 

Tormund shrugged. "We'll say goodbye first. C'mon." Usually when Tormund wanted to drag him around, he put an arm around his shoulders. Right now, he put it around Jon's waist. It didn't seem like he noticed Jon's blush, which was probably a good thing, right? Right. Jon cleared his throat, trying to keep up with Tormund without leaving into him. With Tormund's arm around his waist like it was though, that wasn't an option. They were pretending to be married, so after a moment's hesitation he leaned into him, putting an arm around him in kind so it would stop being in his way. Tormund glanced down at him, then grinned and held him tighter. Jon didn't have the heart to correct him, figuring that he should appreciate the closeness while he could-- not that there was any lack of physical closeness where Tormund was concerned, he was always dragging Jon here or there like it didn't light a little fire in him at every touch. 

"We don't have to go anywhere," Jon said, but he didn't try to escape Tormund's hold again. He sighed when Tormund kept marching forward, determined. "Look, I know I freaked out, but seriously I'm fine. I know you wanted to put on a good face for Brienne, and I promised I'd help you. It's not helping you if we have to leave early because I got caught up in my head for stupid shit. Tormund, stop. I'm fine, I swear." 

"You're not fine." 

"Look at me, I'm good." 

Tormund did give him a cursory glance just to be nice, but it didn't effect his decision at all. "You look fine now, but you didn't a minute ago so we're not staying." 

"Would it kill you to listen to me? Just once or twice?" 

"It might, you never know." 

Jon couldn't really say what was going through his head when he did it. Maybe it was because he was emotionally exhausted, maybe it was because he wanted Tormund to stop arguing with him for once, and maybe it was because Tormund was standing there, looking fucking gorgeous and wild but concerned about him. He got on his tiptoes and yanked Tormund down for a kiss. It was hard and not at all pleasant, but at least it got Tormund to stop and listen to him for a second. "I'm fine. See? I can handle the rest of this, no problem." 

"If you're sure," Tormund said, looking at Jon like he didn't _quite_ believe him but was willing to let it slide for the moment. 

* * *

Jon stopped himself from thinking. He didn't know he could do that, but he managed it, which kept him calm enough to make it through the rest of the night. Every time it seemed like he was going to freak out, he shifted closer to Tormund or leaned into him. He didn't think about it until the next morning-- hindsight’s twenty/twenty, after all-- but that _definitely_ explained how he'd ended up in bed. With Tormund. Naked. He sat up automatically, blanket falling into his lap as if that would preserve whatever vestiges of dignity he might have left. 

He covered his face with his hands, thinking that he had just proven himself to be the absolute _dumbest_ bastard on the face of the planet. He'd been so nervous last night, and he'd sort of pushed himself into Tormund's space. Every now and then he'd leaned in and kissed him. By the time the party broke up, he was feeling warm and just this side of tipsy to believe it was a good idea to keep kissing Tormund as they left. Tormund had tried to bring him home, but Jon got a hand on his cock and kissed his neck and begged to be brought back to Tormund's instead. Begged. 

Gods he was such a fucking embarrassment, he should live in the mountains with no one else around except wolves and goats. "You okay?" Tormund asked. 

Jon took several deep breaths that did nothing to soothe him, swallowed around the lump in his throat, and said, "Yeah, I'm good." Tormund didn't say anything back, and Jon started to blush, heated shame creeping up his face. He wanted to get the hell out of here, but he wasn't wearing anything. He cast about for his trousers, then spotted them laying a couple feet away. Too far to grab without flashing his arse, and he'd humiliated himself enough in the last day to last a lifetime. Still, he couldn't stay in this bed forever, so he wiggled to the side and contemplated how quickly he'd be able to put them on. If he tried it too fast, he'd probably fall flat on his face and make the whole thing worse. 

"I've seen you naked before," Tormund said drily. "It's nothing I haven't seen." 

"Right. Course," he muttered. This was getting worse by the second, he shouldn't bother trying to stick around in the hopes of making it slightly less bad. What had he been thinking? Of _course_ Tormund had seen him naked before, and even if he hadn't, it's not like Jon was special or some shit. Still, he got up and immediately reached for his trousers, yanking them on. He found his boxers a second later and shoved them in the pocket. He had a shirt around here somewhere- aha! 

Tormund propped himself up on his elbows, impassively watching Jon scramble for clothes. 

"Erm, thanks for the uh- the wedding," Jon said, trying to rebutton the shirt in such a hurry that he had to stop and start over so it wouldn't be lopsided. "It was fun." 

"...yeah. Fun." 

"That bad huh?" Jon said with a self deprecating laugh, running a hand through his hair. 

"What?" 

"I mean, I'm- y'know-" Jon stopped himself there, shaking his head. Desperate. It wasn't really a surprise he was total shite in bed. He remembered moaning a lot, but that didn't mean _Tormund_ had been having a good time. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't heard much of anything from Tormund the whole time. The more noise Jon had made, the harder Tormund had fucked him. Probably just to get it over with so he'd shut up. Gods willing, they'd never talk about this again and in a week, Jon would be able to pretend it had never happened. 

Okay, _fuck_ buttons. Jon snatched his undershirt off the ground and headed for the living room. Thankfully, he'd left his shoes by the door, but his socks were going to be sacrificed for the greater good of getting him the fuck out of here. 

"Jon? Where are you going?" Unlike him, Tormund hadn't bothered to get dressed. 

"Home, where I should've gone last night." 

"I did offer." 

"I know." That just made it worse, because Jon had insisted on spending the night at Tormund's. 

"...right." 

"Don't look at me like that." 

"Like what?" 

"I know I made- made a complete arse of myself, okay?" He tugged his shoes on, wincing at how the inside felt without socks. "You don't have to be all judgmental about it. Although," he said, blowing out a breath, "I guess you can judge me as much as you want. It's not like I could stop you, and I'd deserve it." 

"What the hell are you talking about?" 

Jon paused and looked up at him. Unlike Jon, Tormund wasn't embarrassed in the slightest. Confused maybe, but not embarrassed, not like he was ashamed of what had happened. "Erm, last night. The- the sex." Didn't he remember? It was kind of impossible for him not to know what Jon was talking about. 

"Right. And why would I judge you for that?" 

He refused to say aloud 'because I was shit at it'. "Just forget it." Jon started to open the door, but then Tormund was there, pushing it closed again. 

"I'm gonna ask this once, and if you say yes, you can leave and we'll forget all about it." He waited for Jon to nod in agreement before asking, "Did we hook up because you were horny and I was the closest person?" 

Jon swallowed thickly. "No." 

"Then why the hell are you running away." 

Jon just stared at the doorknob. Tormund's free hand ghosted across his back to his hip, pulling him closer. 

"Gonna kiss me like you mean it? Like you did last night?" he asked, voice a low timber that made Jon shiver. He leaned closer, his mouth close to Jon's ear and his breath heating the skin on his neck. "C'mon Jon, I know you can." 

"You're such an arse," Jon muttered, but he turned and kissed him, yanking Tormund down further so he didn't have to lean up at all. 

Tormund grinned against his mouth, wrapping his arms around Jon and holding him close. "Finally." 


End file.
